Why is it always a beta?
by Manicies
Summary: I based this off of Lollidictators manuals, and I thought it would be funny to get a Beta...not fun. At all. :X Never willingly get a beta, is what I say.


"HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HEELLLLPPPPP!"

Was the only thing I could screech down the end of the phone, while tears streaked down my face. I was that terrified. I knew without a doubt, however, that there was nothing that the company could do to help me in time, so I was doomed to be possibly brutally tortured by the psychopathic war-crazed Russian that was now tearing my room apart trying to find me.

Wait, you're not up to this part. Let me try again.

It all started on that weekend. It was one of the exceedingly rare days I get alone. My sis was out at the library, my dad was at golf, and I think my mum took my little brother out grocery shopping. Whatever.

I was scooting around my two favourite websites, DeviantArt and iScribble, when I'm struck by the uncommon but not unheard of need to check my emails. I don't do it as often, usually because I don't get many emails. Somehow I get tons of spam though, so I usually don't anymore.

When I got there, I saw a strange email that looked different from the rest. Being the extreme otaku that I am (please look that up in the dictionary when you get home, children), I reacted definitely when I saw the word Hetalia in it.

Yes, at the moment my crazed obsession is Hetalia. So sue me if I thought the idea of hilarious stereotypes representing countries was interesting (except for Australia, you just know what his first line is gunna be…).

I clicked it, otaku-ness momentarily overriding common sense (it usually is ignored). However, the first line of the email was

_**Congratulations**__ on purchasing your very own Hetalia Unit! The lucky unit will be delivered to your place in two to three business days!_

It just went on to say the details of the purchase, and any instructions, but I was just dumbfounded at the word '_purchasing_'. I had little to no money, and whatever this….'unit' thing was, not only could I probably not afford it, but I'd rather not, unless I knew what it was.

Yes, I'm cheap. Leave me alone. I'd prefer to save my money for commissions or something.

After the initial shock, I realised that this was sent….two to three business days ago. Poop. Would it be coming today? Probably.

Suddenly something clicked in my mind. _Unit…unit….!_

I remembered that the latest thing on the internet that had caught my eye was a lot of fanfics written about fake manuals one of my friends had written about 'Hetalia Units' that were the equivalent of a scarily-humanoid robot type thing. I remembered having wished that such a thing was real.

_I guess many things in this world will continue to elude my understanding….._ I thought, as I sighed hurriedly and exited out of my email. It was probably just someone shamming me, as per usual. You would not believe how many emails I get from people who apparently have several million and want to share it with me.

No thanks!

My cynical thoughts were interrupted by the sound of our doorbell ringing. I paused, listening to the tune as it played, then drifted towards the door, not sure whether to answer it or not. It was quite likely to be ring-and-runners…..

But then I saw someone standing there, and I knew it wasn't, and that I had to open the door.

I hesitantly opened the door a crack, and peeked out. To my shock, I saw a business man standing next to a very tall box. _Wha….._ was the only thought that was processing through my mind, until the man cleared his throat and startled me out of my reverie.

I fully opened the door, not sure to make of what was happening. If that twit's watching from across the street, he'll keep pestering me at school till I tell him what it is…._I don't even know myself._ I thought bitterly.

"Sign here please" The man said suddenly, and held out an electronic pad and stylus for me to sign with. I felt a tiny thrill of smugness as I took them and signed, as I always do when I'm doing something fancy-ish that I've never done before.

I stepped inside and out of the way and the man struggled to wheel the giant box over the little step at the front of our house. I wanted to offer my help, but I could see that I wouldn't be good for much. So I bit my lip and let him do his job.

When he was done, he pulled the wheelie thingy out from under it and wiped some sweat from his brow. As I walked over and started to examine the box, he held out a Manilla folder for me, and I took it with surprise. "It's the manual." He explained, seeing my look of confusion. However, that only served to make me even more confused.

"Hey, you're lucky. I heard you're getting a beta version!" The man said. It took a moment for me to realise that he was speaking to me, but there you go. I looked up at him, my face as blank as my sleep deprived mind felt. Not that that was very blank, but you get the picture. The man just gave me a look, as if he thought I was stupid. "As in, a unit no one else has?" He asked slowly. I glared at him. "Thanks."

"Well, see ya." He said, in a friendly way, and left. I took a moment to stare at the box, seeing if I could find out anything about it. Nothing. I then tore into the folder eagerly, to see who I had gotten.

_**IVAN BRAGINSKI: User Guide and Manual**_

_**CONGRATULATIONS!**__You have just purchased your very own IVAN BRAGINSKI unit! This manual was made in order to allow you, the owner, to unlock your unit's full potentials, and it is advised to read this before trying anything as mistreatment of the IVAN BRAGINSKI unit will prove extremely lethal._

I allowed myself a little squee of delight as I read through it, learning what I should and shouldn't do around him.

After a brief pause, I started to think about how I could wake him up. While I really didn't wanna make him cry, because that was mean, I figured that it was the only way to wake him up without him being hostile or going to search for another unit. So I stood there (after figuring out how to pronounce that, thank you Google) next to the box, and shouted "Брат!" as loudly as I possibly could.

I listened for a minute or two, but to my confusion, I heard nothing. I crept up to the box and stuck my ear against the side. Nothing. Unsure of what else to do, I knocked gently. Again, no response.

Fear flashed through me. _What if he'd been damaged?_ Was all I think of for a few minutes, and I spent that time having an internal meltdown. When it was over, I decided to stuff it all, I was going to open the top and see what was wrong.

I pulled up a chair and stepped on it, my chin barely making it past the top of the crate. Good god, but he was _tall_. It took me a while, but I managed to prise the top of the box open a little, and I peeked in, seeing nothing but darkness.

I was terrified out of my life when a gloved hand suddenly tore through the gap, almost popping the lid off, and I scrabbled backwards off the chair and landed on my butt with a yelp. The hand flailed a little, before it grasped the edge and, with a pull, yanked the entire lid off. It tossed the lid to the ground, almost smacking me in the head.

I almost expected him to pull himself from the top of the crate, but as per usual, I was very wrong.

The hand pulled back down into the box, and with a loud crash, the four sides just…well, toppled.

As the sides fell, I stared at the person inside with growing incredulity, and eventually fear.

While he was still the person advertised blatantly by the manual, he seemed…different. He was not the same Ivan Braginski I knew and loved. This man was thinner, had a sour expression, and was wearing a WWI-esque military uniform.

The fear inside me suddenly rose to a peak, and I gasped as I fully realised who was standing in front of me. At my sound, his head snapped around to look at me. I was too terrified to say anything, or even move. _BADBADBADBADBADBADBADBAD RUNRUNRUNRUNRUN_ my brain seemed to be screaming at me, but I seemed to be locked in place by his violet eyes.

The violet eyes of Soviet Russia.


End file.
